I was born here in the Bronx. My mother took care of me. My father was alive but not involved in my life. He’s dead for 12 years now so I can’t speak so much about him. They were married. I have one brother. I’m the oldest.

I passed high school, a little bit of college, not that much. I gotta remember. I did English in college, yes that was it. I worked for the board of education for eighteen years. Recently my house burnt down. It’s burnt completely; there’s nothing, nothing. Everybody thinks that I did it. My son he kept telling me it was cold in the house. The heater went off and on and off and on. All of a sudden I smelled something; then sparks, flames. I had to move fast. I tried to put out the fire myself. I lost everything. Everything in the house, family pictures, stuff, everything. I didn’t get burnt. I only have one son. He lives in the Bronx in a studio apartment. He’s doing fine. He’s a grown man. I have no grandchildren.

My future is not to be here. I been in this shelter too long. I’m trying to go forward, to Chicago, with my husband. I’m not gonna be married yet. But that’s what the plans are.